


Stormy Nights, Scrabble, Old Movies and Poetry

by Browneyesparker



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Old Movies, Poetry, Romance, Scrabble, Stormy nights, Trouble Sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:29:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browneyesparker/pseuds/Browneyesparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra and Jake spend a stormy evening together, playing Scrabble and watching an old movie. Rated T because of a poem Jake reads. AU-ish. Romance if you squint</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stormy Nights, Scrabble, Old Movies and Poetry

.

The thunderstorm going on outside of her window was making it impossible to go to sleep. Cassandra had spent a better part of the night trying to go to sleep and failing miserably. After tossing and turning, she kicked off her comforter and slipped on thick socks, deciding to go in search of anything to take her mind off of her sleepless state.

When she reached the living room, she realized that somebody else was awake. She peeked in, hoping it wasn’t Jenkins and sighed in relief when she saw that it was only Jake, reading Pablo Neruda in a worn out recliner and wearing an old college football sweatshirt. She held her breath, not wanting to interrupt him, he looked so at ease. She turned around to go to the kitchen to find something to drink when he called her name.

“Cassie, honey? What are you doin’ up so late?”

She whirled around and looked at him. “Oh, um, I couldn’t sleep. . . the rain, it’s too heavy. It was keeping me awake,” she answered.

Jake laughed but not unkindly. “You know, most people find the rain kind of soothin’.”

“What are you still doing up?” Cassandra asked. 

“Just I’ some readin’ in,” Jake replied. “You know, while we have a break from saving or anything like that.”

“Oh. . .” Cassandra trailed off and bit her lip. “Okay, well, I’ll just leave you alone then. . .”

“You don’t have to do that!” Jake told her quickly as he marked his place and stood up, approaching her slowly. “I’m distracted now; I don’t think I could get any readin’ done. How ‘bout we play a board game or somethin’ until the storm passes?”

“Scrabble?” Cassandra asked, knowing he would probably like that suggestion over something like Monopoly or Risk.

“Do you want to play Scrabble?” Jake checked.

Cassandra shrugged. “Yeah, I like to play Scrabble. . .”

Jake was looking at her like he didn’t really believe her but he went to get it anyways, suggesting she put a movie on or something. She found the remote and flipped through channels until she landed on an old Myrna Loy and William Powell movie, it was one she remembered watching at her grandmother’s house on VHS one summer when she had stayed with her.

“You know that they were in fourteen movies together?” Jake asked, startling her a little bit. 

“Who?” Cassandra asked.

“William Powell and Myrna Loy,” Jake answered. “That’s some of the most films any actor and actress have been in together. Most of them were sequels to the Thin Man franchise though. But that doesn’t interest you, does it?”

“Since it interests you, I don’t really mind hearing about it,” Cassandra replied sincerely. 

“Aww, well, let’s just play the game,” Jake said turning the movie down to background noise before setting the Scrabble board up on the coffee table. He handed her the plastic silver bag. “Here, you can pick your letters first.”

She shook the bag well and then counted out seven tiles, before handing it back to him. 

“So, why can’t you sleep when there’s a thunderstorm?” Jake asked, looking at his tiles but listening to her at the same time.

“It gets all mixed up with the noises inside my head,” Cassandra answered simply. “So, it’s hard to relax.”

“Oh.” Jake spelled out a word and smiled at her. “It’s your turn sweetheart.”

Cassandra bit her lip in concentration before building a word on the tiles that he’d laid down. They played in silence for a while, the only sounds was the conversation going on in Manhattan Melodrama. 

“You know you can always come and talk to me when you can’t sleep,” Jake told her out of the blue. 

Cassandra looked up at him. “Do you really mean it Jake?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” Jake answered. “I am not the type of person who says things that he doesn’t mean. Thank you very much.”

“But why?”

Jake sighed. “You know why. I like you a lot Cassie. I care about you and your well-being, so if talkin’ to me will help you sleep at night then I am more than happy to offer you my services.”

“Well, thank you,” Cassandra said. “It really means a lot to me. . .”

“Go on now, it’s your turn,” Jake told her. 

They finished playing a long while later, he had beaten her soundly just like she had known he would. The angry storm had quieted down to a soft pitter-patter, there was hardly enough noise to keep Cassandra from sleeping anymore. But even though she was exhausted, she found that she didn’t really want to leave Jake. Not when it was just the two of them and whatever was bothering him about her didn’t seem to matter. 

“You don’t have to go to bed,” Jake told her, like he could read her thoughts. “Just stretch out on the couch and I’ll read to you ‘til you go to sleep.”

“You don’t mind?”

He sighed in exasperation as he threw the Scrabble game back into the box and powered down the TV. “Stop askin’ that, okay? I don’t mind reading to you at all,” he said a little more gently.

“Okay,” Cassandra said, trying to stifle a large yawn and failing miserably. 

She lay down on the couch and he covered her with Ezekiel’s Avengers throw blanket. He took his seat in the recliner and picked up the book of poetry that he had been reading when she had interrupted him. He turned to where he had left off and cleared his throat, his voice was strong and clear and she floated in and out of sleep on the words that he loved so much.

“Little rose, roselet at times, tiny and naked it seems as though you would fit in one of my hands, as though I’ll clasp you like this and carry you to my mouth. . .”

When she woke up again, she was in her own bed and sunshine was pouring into her room. She felt like she had woken up from a dream, but when she looked over at the nightstand she knew that she wasn’t dreaming. 

Jake had left the book of poetry by her bedside. Cassandra didn’t know why he had done it but the gesture made her smile all the same. As she tucked the book away in her nightstand, she made a note to ask him about it later.

And to thank him for the night before while she was at it.

_The End_  
.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a slight obsession with Pablo Neruda; the poem that Jake read to Cassandra is called In You the Earth. Just a warning though, the whole thing is a lot sensual. I’m sure most of us are grown up enough to handle it. Second of all, I have a slight obsession with Myrna Loy & William Powell. I’m not about to suggest you go out and watch any of their movies though. Anyways, that’s all for now. I hope you guys will all read and review.


End file.
